


Sparks and Blood

by me_midget (gin_tonic)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 01:57:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gin_tonic/pseuds/me_midget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's lands himself in a world of trouble, again. This time, a potion accident awakens something ancient in him – something he didn't even know was there. His quest for help leads him to Romania – and to Charlie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparks and Blood

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, a gazillion thanks go to my beta, the wonderful [starduchess](http://starduchess.insanejournal.com). More thanks go to our very patient mods! <3

******

When Harry had chased down the rouge potioneer Ron and he had tried to find for months now, Harry hadn't counted on an easy arrest, but he had certainly not expected the potion lab to explode around him. When he regained consciousness in St. Mungo's, Ron told him that the potioneer had fired a powerful blasting hex at his cauldrons. While Harry had only been injured slightly – due to a quick _Protego_ – the potioneer had perished in the explosion.

Harry propped himself up on the pillows. "If I've only been injured a bit, why am I feeling so strange?" His head felt like it was wrapped in cotton wool – not too strange an experience for Harry, who'd had his fair share of concussions in his lifetime – but unlike other times, the world wasn't tilting sideways, but rather was tinted in Technicolor. It looked too real, too colourful, like someone had switched his glasses to those funny Spectrespecs that Luna liked to wear, the ones with the different coloured lenses. Harry pressed a finger to the glass in front of his left eye then took off his glasses, but the weird colours stayed, even though the world was suddenly very short-sighted-hazy.

"About that…" As Harry donned his glasses again, he saw Ron rub the back of his neck. "They weren't entirely sure if there would be any side effects. Looks like there are."

"Side effects of what?"

"It seems that, while you were unconscious, some of the ingredients splashed or dripped on you ..."

"What?!"

"Don't worry, they got rid of most of it."

"But not of everything," Harry said flatly. Of course. How could he even think for a second, things might finally be normal?  
"No. They... It was probably dragon's blood." Ron moved his hand from his neck to rake through his hair. "I should've got to you sooner. Maybe –"

Harry waved him off. "Your task was to cut off Mitchell's escape route. How could you have known what would happen?" Ron said nothing and Harry nodded, then exhaled slowly. "Now. What does dragon's blood do?"

Ron cringed visibly. "There are several side effects. Healers say it could be anything from headaches to... well, to changes in your behaviour."

"Huh? What changes?"

"It's said dragon's blood, if undiluted, can turn someone into a dragon."

"What?!" Harry almost leapt out of the bed. "I'm turning into a dragon?!"

"We don't think so." Upon seeing the look in Harry's eyes, Ron added, "Hermione is doing research."

While Harry felt a little calmer hearing that, he still wasn't reassured in the least. "What's going to happen now?"

"You will no doubt make them discharge you against their advice – again – and then I will bring you back to your place."

 

******

 

The side effects presented themselves slowly, but with growing vehemence. Hermione described it as his DNA changing. Harry noted little things first: hovering cupboards in his bedroom, when he woke up in the morning, dry, flaky skin, and the general feeling of being hot all over. He supposed it was the new, additional magical energy that caused those things. He could feel it pulsating inside of him. But these things were manageable – no-one saw those flying cupboards because he didn't share his bed with anyone, and not wearing a shirt while at home took care of the hotness. He was on leave anyway.

But when Hermione and Ron came over a week after Harry had been released from St. Mungo's and talked to him about his sick leave – which he absolutely detested, because sitting around at home was _not_ his style – they noted that Harry's eyes gave off sparks.

Harry clamped his hands over his eyes. He could feel the sparks. They didn't hurt, but prickled on his fingers.

"Harry, your table is burning," Ron said and Harry heard him douse the flames with his tea. "I guess we should find a cure for this soon, before you set your house on fire."

Harry, after taking a couple of deep breaths, opened his eyes again and looked at Hermione. "Have you found anything?" He'd read through several books as well, drawing on his school-days potions knowledge, but it hadn't gotten him anywhere.

Hermione had already opened the book she'd brought and was leafing through it. "I thought I did. This book lists _all_ of the side effects. But, Harry…your eyes setting off sparks is not one of them."

Harry raked his hands through his hair. "What could it be then?"

Hermione shut the book loudly and looked at him with a disconcerting expression. Harry'd never seen it before, but he immediately knew that she was at the end of her rope. "I don't know."

Harry tried very much not to panic at that and attempted to look at the whole problem logically. He needed a potions expert, someone who would know _exactly_ why he was showing these symptoms. Problem was the only one he could think of was dead.

 

******

 

Getting an hour alone with Snape's portrait had been easier than he had expected. McGonagall had been pleased to be able to help him and had granted Harry access to her office, which was where Harry was sitting now, right in front of Snape's portrait. Snape didn't seem too pleased at the interruption.

After describing his symptoms and adding that he thought they were increasing in number and ferocity, Harry asked: "Can you help? Can you tell what I need to do to cure this?"

Snape's portrait rubbed his forehead and pinched his massive nose. "Potter. How it's always you who get into this kind of trouble will never cease to amaze me."

"Yes, I know." Harry rolled his eyes. "But can you help?"

"As a matter of fact, no."

"What?!" Harry jumped to his feet, hands balled into fists. "Why?!" He could feel the sparks threatening again.

"Because, Potter, it is no longer a matter of potions and spells. What you described are not mere symptoms of a poisoning. Your friend Granger was right — you are changing."

"But there has to be a way to stop this!"

Snape sighed. "Unfortunately – and I do mean that – no. The dragon's blood seems to have awakened something in you."

"Huh?"

Snape groaned and threw his head back. "Why do I always have to suffer the idiots," he muttered and then said, a little louder, "You are not completely human, it seems."

Harry felt his legs give out and just managed to land on the chair again. This could _not_ be happening. "That's impossible."

"Apparently not."

"But…" Harry shook his head. "Someone would have noticed before if I wasn't completely human! Voldemort would have!"

"No necessarily. It's not an often discussed topic, but many old wizarding families have had … run-ins with other creatures."

"You mean they …"

"Yes, Potter. They had sex, they coupled, they …"

Harry held up a hand. "Thanks, I got it. So one of my ancestors had sex with a dragon?!" He was sure he turned several shades of violent green – at least he felt sick enough at the thought.

"Probably not. There are rituals …" Snape sniffed. "And before you ask, Potter, yes, it was often done on purpose. People believed they would increase their powers. Nowadays … well, as I said, it's not something anyone likes to discuss."

Harry nodded absently, still trying to wrap his head around the idea that once – hopefully a long, long while ago – someone in his family had thought it was a great idea to … mix with dragons. And of course he was the lucky one who got to enjoy the drawbacks. Harry took a deep breath. "What's going to happen?"

"Do I look like bloody Trelawney?! How would I know?"

"But, Sir –"

"Oh, don't 'Sir' me, Potter! You didn't when I was alive, so don't start doing it now. It just makes you look like an idiot." Snape huffed.

"Please." Harry raked a hand through his hair again. "I need to know! Maybe there is something I can do!"

"Have you not been listening? There is no way to stop this. The only thing you can do now is to learn to live with it." Snape started pacing through his portrait. "I suspect you already feel the changes in your body. How they will manifest in the end, I do not know."

"I'm not going to become a dragon, am I?"

Snape stopped his pacing and turned to stare at him. Finally, he just sighed and shook his head. "And to think you might have grown out of your stupidity …" he muttered. "No, Potter, you're not. You will most likely start showing dragon-like traits. You might want to get your friend Granger to read up on the topic." He cleared his throat – the sound was awkwardly papery. "Now, I must rest."

"You are a portrait. How can you be tired?"

"You have seen the Fat Lady snooze and snore for so many years, Potter … But in fact this was me trying to politely tell you to fuck off." Snape waved the back of his hand at Harry. "Leave."

 

******

 

Harry did not tell Hermione about his situation. In fact, he told no-one but instead charmed and bribed his way into the Restricted Section at Hogwarts, where he _borrowed_ some books. He also bought whatever books he could find about dragons at Flourish  & Blotts. With that and some take-away curry, Harry holed up in his flat, vowing to himself not to come out before he'd solved this problem by himself. The thought of having to explain that he was partially a dragon because one of his ancestors had had an unhealthy fascination with beasts … No, it was too embarrassing, too weird.

Four days later, Ron was hammering on his door with Harry being nowhere closer to finding a cure. But he couldn't bear the thought of Ron knowing what exactly was wrong with him. It would only set Harry further apart from his friends –from humanity, really. So he quickly spelled all the books into his bedroom, cast a quick cleaning spell on the living-room and himself, and went to open the door.

Ron pushed his way inside and looked around suspiciously. "I thought you'd died!"

Harry sighed. "Ron …"

"No, really Harry, I did! Well. Okay. Maybe I didn't think you died, but you sure had me worried." Ron crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared at Harry, waiting.

"Sorry for going off the grid."

"Damn right you are." Ron strode through the room, looking behind the sofa, checking the kitchen – for what exactly, Harry didn't know. "I know you're not feeling well, mate, but you just can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?" Harry asked as he trailed behind Ron. He was tired – reading through all those damn books had kept him up longer than he wished to think about. His mind felt muddled, fuzzy – which was why he noted too late that Ron moved towards his bedroom.

"What the –"

"Wait, no –"

Ron just stood there, staring at the stacks of books, at the tomes lying on his bed. He moved closer, studied the titles. "Are you turning into Hermione?" Ron read a title of one of the books, then another, " _Dragons Lore – Fiery Power_ … _Blood Heritage_." He stood there for quite some time, reading titles, until he suddenly froze, and Harry knew Ron had made the connection. Harry lowered his head as Ron turned around to face him. "Mate," he said, and Harry readied himself for the judgment that was about to come, "I think you need to go and see Charlie."

Harry jerked his head up and blinked. "What?"

Ron pointed at the bed, the books. "Charlie. You, know, my brother? The dragon keeper?"

"Oh." Harry cleared his throat. Why hadn't he thought of that? "Right. Okay."

Ron patted Harry's shoulder as he moved past him into the living room. "I'll Floo him."

 

******

 

Charlie was happy to invite Harry to the dragon reservation, as it turned out, and Ron and Hermione arranged for a Portkey to take Harry to Romania. Hermione took Harry's books, saying she might be able to find something in them, even if Harry didn't, and Harry agreed in defeat. They'd given him a headache anyway.

The Portkey brought him to a solitary peak in the Carpathian Mountains, from where he had to hike two kilometres until he reached the reservation. Charlie met him at the front gates and led him into the vast compound.

"What do you think?" he asked and spread his arms as if to show Harry the whole of the area in one fell swoop.

Harry looked around. He had never thought about Romania or the dragon reservation much, but now he could at least say one thing, "It's a lot greener than I expected."

Charlie laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. He left his arm around Harry and steered him towards one of the huts. "Come on, you'll kip at my place."

The cabin was bare, but it had everything that was needed. There was a basin and a tap from which they could draw crystal clear water, a wardrobe, table, chairs, fireplace and pot, and a shelf. And a bed – a single bed. Harry scratched his neck in both embarrassment and confusion. With a sudden jolt he remembered meeting Charlie in the summer before fourth year and how he'd sneaked glances at him whenever Charlie had undressed. It had been a weird time for Harry and having Charlie prance around naked without a care in the world hadn't made it any easier. Of course, the events following that summer had almost driven Charlie from his mind, leaving behind a summer's fascination. Blood rushed to Harry's face and he cleared his throat as he decided that Charlie must mean for him to conjure a bed or transform something into one.

"It's not much …" Charlie said and trailed off as Harry smiled at him. Harry dropped his bag, moved to the sink and drank the clear water greedily from the tap.

"It's great," Harry said and raised his wand as he wiped his mouth with the back of his other hand. "You got something I can make into a bed?"

Charlie pointed at a chair. "Use that. I always find it easier to use something that is similar to what I want to get as the end result."

That done, Harry looked at Charlie, not really knowing what to do next. He wanted to see the dragons, wanted to know more about them than the books could tell, but he didn't know if it was okay to ask. To be honest, he didn't know what was okay to do with Charlie anyway. Harry was here to get help, yet he was wishing he'd come for other reasons.

Harry shook his head. "Show me round?"

 

******

 

Exhausted from the long-distance Portkey travel and the hike up to the reservation, Harry had fallen into bed early. Whatever deity watched over him had granted him a dreamless sleep for once and the morning found him well-rested. Plus, whatever was happening to his body didn't set the cabin on fire while he had slept. The furniture was in their places, too.

As Charlie and Harry walked towards the mess to get some breakfast, Charlie explained to Harry what to expect of the day: "You'll have to get the hang of the reservation first – from what goes where to who is responsible for what. Since we are working with such dangerous beasts it's important everyone knows what to expect and what to do. That's also one of the reasons why there'll be a security advisement for you, to keep you and the dragons safe."

Harry snorted. "I had my first dragon encounter in my fourth year, as you know. Nobody instructed me then."

"And what a great idea that was." Charlie rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I never got what they were thinking. I'm just glad I managed to get some info to you via Hagrid beforehand."

Harry grinned at the memory – that had been a part of his fourth year that he had very much enjoyed.

"I suppose we could just give you a broom and you'd be okay with the dragons – if you're still as good as you were back then."

Harry shrugged. "I'm a bit rusty, I guess. What about you? Still good on a broom?"

Charlie looked him up and down. "Maybe I'll show you sometime."

 

******

 

Harry learned a lot that day, but he didn't see any dragons. A little disappointed, he trudged into Charlie's hut after dinner, not prepared for Charlie to press a glass of Romanian Firewhiskey into his hand and gesture for him to take a seat. "I think it's time you tell me what's up."

Harry didn't even pretend not to know what Charlie was talking about – after all, it was why he was here. And while Ron probably hadn't said anything about Harry's problem, he must've told Charlie that Harry needed help. "How much did Ron tell you?"

Charlie shook his head. "Not much. Said you needed help with dragon stuff."

Harry snorted. "You could say that. The short version is when Ron and I tried to arrest a rogue potioneer, dragon's blood dripped on me and woke hereditary dragon traits that I didn't know existed." As Charlie just stared at him wide-eyed, Harry plunged on. "It comes and it goes. Sparks spraying from my eyes and burning stuff, things hovering …"

"Why haven't you done any of that by now?"

Harry shrugged and took a sip of his drink. "Guess because I was tired. I've been dreading it, though." He paused for a moment. "Your cabin is made of wood, right?"

Charlie waved him off. "Fire-proof, like everything else in the reservation." When he drank, Harry thought it was most likely to give him time to figure out how to tell Harry no. "Can't say I've ever encountered something like this," he said, and Harry hung his head. "However, I do know my way around dragons. What you need to find out is how to handle your inner dragon, Harry. And I'm good at handling."

Harry had never doubted that, not even for a second. "So I can stay?"

"Of course! I'll put you through some tests tomorrow, to see what triggers your dragon-traits." He reached over and squeezed Harry's shoulder. "We'll figure it out."

 

******

 

Test him, Charlie did. First of all Charlie wanted to see if Harry reacted to different foods and stuffed him with what the mess had to offer. The only thing they found out was that Harry's appetite had increased. Charlie then tried out physical exhaustion and made Harry jog and do lunges and squats. But apart from heating up far more then should possible for a human being – his sweat dried before it reached his brow – everything was normal.

The next on the list were stress tests, for which Charlie got a couple of guys together to rile Harry up. It was not a test Harry enjoyed. He did his best to keep a level head as they threw insults at him, but as soon as they had reached the topic of his friends and family and threw in a good dose of mocking his sexuality, Harry's temper flew wild. Then one of the men seemed to forget they weren't having a real fight and pushed him hard. Almost immediately, he was slammed against a wall on the other side of the room. Sparks shot from Harry's eyes, and for a second or two he bared his teeth and could have sworn he felt fangs sprouting.

Harry heard a shout and a shuffling of feet, then he felt an arm upon his own. For a second he felt like lashing out, but then he recognised Charlie — from his scent! — as the one who was standing in front of him. Charlie pulled Harry's arms down gently, and it was only when he opened his eyes that Harry noticed that he'd closed them and had thrown his arms up, hands in front of his eyes. His palms showed red, angry welts now. Harry looked at them in surprise. "For some reason I thought I'd be immune to fire."

"You probably are. Normal fire that is. Dragon's fire is at least a thousand times hotter," Charlie said and led Harry over to the tables. The mess was deserted.

"Are they okay?" Harry asked. That they had left because of him was not even something he had to ask about.

"Yes, don't worry. They’ve had worse. But I can't say that we weren't surprised." Charlie gave Harry a smile, then set to heal the burns on Harry's hands. "Though maybe I shouldn't have been. You always had somewhat of a temper."

"Did not."

Charlie snorted. "Right." They were silent for a while as Charlie worked. Then he said quietly, "Sorry about that. I know it wasn't exactly pleasant."

"Understatement of the century," Harry said and closed his eyes. They were still stinging, but he would rather have concentrated on the feeling of Charlie's hands on his skin than worried about setting something else on fire. "It's alright, though. We had to find out what could trigger this." Harry took a deep breath as he remembered what it had felt like, losing control. Like he was transforming into something else, something unpleasantly uncontrollable. Years ago he would have supposed turning into a dragon would be cool, but in fact it was terrifying. It was nothing like turning into an Animagus, and more, Harry supposed, like turning into a werewolf. He had lost control too quickly and his body ... "Did I have fangs?"

Charlie hesitated for a second or two. "Yes. They just _grew_."

Harry only opened his eyes when Charlie was finished healing and bandaging him."Snape said there's no way to stop this, because it's in my blood. There's just one thing I can do: I need to learn to control this."

Charlie nodded. "I'll do what I can."

 

******

 

Charlie led him to the dragons that afternoon. A last test, he promised. After the last one, Harry felt trepidation in every step that brought him closer to the dragons. And yet, the chance to see dragons again excited him and overshadowed the fear. Charlie told him to keep close, and Harry didn't ask why. He felt strangely safe with Charlie – maybe because he kept a level head when Harry was freaking out, maybe because Charlie just _oozed_ protection. Harry wasn't sure if that was because he'd gotten to know Charlie as Ron's cool older brother or if it was because of Charlie's handsomely broad shoulders. Whatever it was, Harry didn't mind.

Dusk was already creeping along the horizon, sneaking up on the world and letting the dragons' fires appear even brighter. They found the first dragon in a green valley, near a small pond. There it lay dozing, until Charlie and Harry had stepped on the hill's ridge. It opened one eye lazily to look at them.

"That's Laszlo. One of the younger dragons – and surprisingly one of the calmer ones as well."

Harry was about to say how much of a change it was to see a calm dragon, when suddenly the wind changed. Just like that, the dragon shot upright, sniffing the air as if he wasn't sure whether he'd smelled something delicious or threatening. Harry felt it, too, a tingle under his skin, an itch behind his eyes. He couldn’t see, but he knew his eyes were spraying sparks again. Charlie had pushed himself in front of Harry and started making him back away. Harry didn't know what made him stop Charlie. Instead, he stepped towards the dragon, which was now glowering at him, and looked up. The dragon sniffed deeply and huffed a cloud of smoke and fire as he stood on his hind legs. Then it sat down as suddenly as it had gotten up and closed his eyes.

Harry retreated.

 

******

 

They reached Charlie's cabin in silence. When the door clicked back in its lock, Charlie opened his mouth to say something, but Harry couldn't wait, could only move forward and capture Charlie's mouth in a kiss. Charlie's tongue felt cool on his, and Harry, feeling hot all over, traced it with his own tongue.. His hand clung to the front of Charlie's rough shirt, but Harry was the only one who held on. As the realisation hit, he jumped backwards.

Charlie was staring at him, lips glistening wet, with the wide-eyed look of surprise on his face. Harry's blood cursed hotly through his body, his pulse ten times faster than usual, his heart beating hard enough to jump out of his chest. He couldn't stand this.

Before Charlie had much of a chance to react, Harry pushed past him and stormed out of the hut and into the night.

 

******

 

He had hoped for solace and for understanding but had found neither. What had made him kiss Charlie? Was it the dragon's blood inside him? Some kind of beast within, awakened by the encounter with the dragon in the valley, that had made him crave Charlie this much? Or was it him? He'd always found Charlie attractive – from the broad shoulders to the easy-going grin – but was that explanation enough for rushing at him like that?

What Harry feared most right now – even more than not understanding himself anymore – was Charlie's reaction. Why did Harry have to go and make everything awkward?! If he'd just kept himself in check, things wouldn't be weird. But now whatever bit of easiness there had been between them would be gone. Worse even, if Charlie didn't like Harry that way (and Harry was quite sure that Charlie didn't), he'd most likely want Harry gone from the reservation.  
It was the least he deserved.

 

******

 

Eventually Harry gave up walking around the dark reservation and returned to the cabin, Charlie was asleep already. So Harry undressed quietly and had slipped under the covers.

In the morning, when Harry finally woke up, Charlie had already left the cabin.  
Harry found him in the mess and sat down at Charlie's table with a bowl of sweetened porridge. Charlie grunted something that could pass for a greeting, and Harry nodded at him with a faint smile before ducking his head and concentrating on the food that tasted like ashes in his mouth.

They didn't talk about what had happened. Charlie took Harry to one of the dragon healers – experts who had studied the physique and behaviour of dragons for a long time.

"Close contact with dragons will make your latent features become stronger," the healer said. "But it's the only way you can gain control over what now defines you."

"I'm still me," Harry said, but he wasn't sure that this was true. He'd always been prone to rash actions, but kissing Charlie like that, out of the blue ….

The healer inclined his head. "That may be, but you're also a dragon. You're both and you need to learn how to make both sides cooperate instead of battle."

Harry nodded but didn't know how he could get dragon and wizard features to work together.

"That's where I come in," Charlie said, not looking at Harry.

The healer nodded. "Show him what we do to rein the dragons in. Maybe it will help to control the dragon inside."

 

******

 

Charlie took Harry to the stone barn. Harry could hear dragons roar from inside, but he already knew that those were acting more like Hagrid's Norberta at Hogwarts – young and smallish – than the Horntail he'd duelled during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He fidgeted nervously anyway.

Charlie stopped and turned to Harry. "Now, I want you to take a couple of deep breaths and to try and center yourself."

"Center myself?"

"Yeah. Like, try to imagine that there's a light shining in your belly. All your energy goes to that light and –"

"You read too many of your mother's relaxation books."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Just do it. I don't want you to go all dragon-blood-crazy as soon as we're in there, okay?"

"Alright, alright." Harry took a couple of deep breaths, even though he felt stupid doing it. He closed his eyes and imagined that ball of light, but the only thing he could really concentrate on was Charlie's scent. Like wood and honey and freshly cut grass. Maybe that could be his focus, his anchor.

"Good?" Charlie asked as Harry opened his eyes. Harry nodded, feeling slightly dazed, and followed Charlie into the barn. Fires were burning along the walls and the smell of fresh meat was in the air. Apart from him and Charlie only three small dragons were inside.

"In here, we raise those dragons that need to be separated from the group. Sometimes their mothers don't want them, or sometimes male dragons will try to kill the babes," Charlie explained quietly. "We rescue the dragons and bring them here, so they can grow strong. We also start training them. That way they will be our way into the dragon groups once they are released into the wild again."

"But aren't they completely fixated on humans by that time?"

Charlie shook his head. "That's not the way a dragon's mind works. They know us as friends and caretakers, but never as mothers or fathers or their own kin."

"Hagrid always called himself Norberta's mother."

Charlie snorted. "I doubt Norberta saw it that way."

"What do you think this means for me?" Harry asked. He didn't feel any different about his family, but could it be that the dragon's blood had changed him? So far he only knew that extreme emotion caused him to gain enourmous, uncontrollable strength and that sparks flew from his eyes. And that encounters with dragons woke something pretty animalistic inside him.

"Nothing. But understanding dragons and how their minds work will ultimately allow you to understand how we can control them."

"But they aren't tame."

Charlie shook his head in agreement as he walked over to the nearest dragon. It had dark green scales and a golden horn that glittered if the light that streamed through the holes high up in the wall hit it just right. A Romanian Longhorn. "No, most of them aren't. But taming them is not what we try to achieve. We try to keep the dragons from becoming extinct. At the same time we study them, always trying to gain more insights into their lives and structures, all the while keeping them away from the Muggles."

"And the Muggles away from them." On the way her e Harry had felt strong Muggle-repellant spells. "What are the spells you use with them? You can't bewitch a dragon, can you?"

"No, but you can calm them down. It’s saved many a life here in the reservation."

"What else?" Slowly, Harry moved closer towards the dragon. It was smaller than he was. The dragon turned its head towards Harry and huffed at him, but didn't make any signs of distress. Harry reached out and touched it. The scales felt smooth beneath his fingers, and suddenly Harry felt more alive than he had been before.

"Spells to distract them, spells to put them to sleep. Some of us can do spells to harness their fire."

"What do you need those for?"

"For the forge. Quite a number of magical items are forged here, but that takes time and effort and quite a lot of risk. That's why items forged with dragon’s fire are so expensive." Charlie touched Harry's am and motioned for him to return to the other side of the room. "Come on, I'll show you some of the calming spells. I figure you could use them."

 

******

 

It was afternoon already when they returned from the stables. Charlie had suggested they go to the cabin, and even though Harry would have preferred the noisiness of the mess, he agreed. He had made a quick detour to fetch what was left of lunch, and when he entered the cabin, he saw that Charlie had already set about making tea for them.

It was the first time since Harry's kiss-attack that they were truly alone, with no distractions from dragons or anything else, and Harry felt compelled to say something. "Look, I'm sorry." Charlie kept on puttering about with the kettle. "Though I don't even know whether I should be sorry or not."

"What?"

"No." Harry raked a hand through his hair. "That came out wrong. I'm sorry that I jumped you like that, but technically I'm not sorry that I kissed you."

"Technically?"

"Well, I … I liked it. And I like you. I just … listen, I … sorry if what I did made you uncomfortable."

"You're sorry about a lot of things."

Harry shrugged. "That's true." He sighed and sat down at the table where he played with one of the cups Charlie had set out. "Despite everything, I'm still not sure what made me kiss you."

"'What made you'? Harry, you're not particularly good at making sense, you know that?"

"I mean, I know I like you." Harry blushed at the confession, but since he was already in for a penny …. "But I'm afraid it was the dragon's blood that made me act out. You know, like in a weird dragon mating ritual."

Charlie snorted. "If it's any consolation, no dragon has ever kissed me. Nor did any try."

"But –"

"When dragons mate, they mostly go straight to the sex. They are surprisingly quick in that respect. If you'd tried to bend me over and –"

"I'd never do that!" Harry protested loudly.

"Never?" Charlie grinned.

"Well…." Harry's blushed darkened. "Not just like that. With a lot of kissing and consent beforehand."

"Good to know." Charlie waved his wand and floated the kettle over to the table, where he poured hot water into the cups for their tea. "So?"

"So what?"

"Are your dragon instincts telling you to kiss me now?"

Harry bit his lip. Something was telling him to do just that, but he wasn't so sure it had anything to do with the dragon's blood. If only he knew what to do. If only he knew if Charlie liked –

"For Merlin's sake!" Charlie reached over and unceremoniously pulled Harry close. The kiss was demanding and passionate and Harry never wanted it to end. But end it did – and Harry found himself in Charlie's lap. He didn't quite know how he'd got there, but he couldn't say he minded. From the way Charlie's arms were tight around him, Charlie didn't seem to mind either. "And? Is this because of the dragons' blood?"

Harry grinned and shook his head. The dragons' blood had made him uncontrollable and had made him spray sparks, but it had surely never made his pants feel this tight. That was only because of Charlie.

 

******

 

They were out early the next day. First they went to the stables to check up on the youngsters, then Charlie took Harry back to the smaller dragon he'd seen two days before. The dragon was still at the same spot, still looking as relaxed as a dragon possibly could.

"I want you to cast a calming spell," Charlie said before they got any closer.

"On the dragon?"

"On you."

Harry didn't ask why, but instead he hoped that the spell would keep him calmer this time. And maybe if he was calm, so would be the dragon, who was eyeing him right now. The calming spell was an easy thing to perform, and soon Harry felt every deep breath calming his pulse.

"I need one of the dragon's scales," Charlie said. "Usually I'd put him to sleep or I'd work with someone else to distract the dragon and make him sleepy. But I think you can do it alone."

Harry swallowed thickly and nodded. Going over to the dragon was not the problem – he'd done crazier things in his time – but keeping himself in check was. With every step he felt the deep breaths becoming more normal again. _Breathe deeply, Harry,_ he told himself and really tried to heed his own advice. The dragon stayed where he was, even as Harry stood next to him. But when Harry touched him, Harry felt himself going hot all over. It wouldn't be long now, until his eyes started spraying sparks again, he knew. The dragon stirred and Harry quickly plucked one of his scales, before running back to Charlie.

"Deep breaths," Charlie murmured and led Harry a few paces away. "Concentrate on that energy that's flowing through you and send it to your wand."

Harry did, and seconds later a flame sprung from the tip of his wand. It was bright like Fiendfyre, but stayed where it was, smouldering on top of Harry's wand. Sweat ran down their faces as they stared at the flames.

"Dragon's fire," Charlie breathed. "It's beautiful."

 

******

 

Harry had gone back to the cabin to lie down for a bit after that. Casting that fire had taken a lot out of him, though he was thankful for the outlet. He woke when an owl pecked at the window.

 

_Hi, Harry,  
How are you doing? How's the reservation treating you? Did Charlie try to feed you to a dragon already?_

_I talked to the boss today – he wants to know when you'll be back. The Carter case trial is going to start soon and he wants your arse on the witness bank. Are you better already or still on the way to crazy town?_

_Hermione says to tell you hi._

_Cheers,  
Ron_

 

Harry rubbed his forehead. It had been all too easy to forget about life at home – too easy to let go of everyday stress and hassle. If not for his dragon problem, the stay at the reservation could have been a holiday, especially with Charlie there. Going back and ending his time up there had been the last thing on his mind, but now it was staring him straight in the face. Eventually – and this would be soon – he would have to return. And leave Charlie behind.

 

******

 

Harry put the letter into his backpack just as Charlie entered the cabin.

"Hey," Charlie said and smiled at Harry from where he was standing. He closed the door slowly and made his way over to the table, where he threw his jacket over the back of a chair. "Had a nice nap?"

"Yeah, it was relaxing enough."

Charlie ran his hand through Harry's hair, tugging a little. "You look like you have been thinking too much."

"I do?"

"Yes." Charlie bent down a little, until his face was level with Harry's. "Can't have that." He kissed Harry slowly and pulled him out of the chair. He moved them towards his bed, his lips never leaving Harry's. The clink of his belt on the floor moved Harry into action, and he tore out of his shirt, shucked off his trousers and pants. "Finally."

Harry hesitated only for a second before taking Charlie's length into his hand and stroking it, eliciting a groan from Charlie. Harry kissed a freckled shoulder and wondered how to put into words how much he wanted Charlie. In the end, his dick poking Charlie's leg did it for him.

"How do you …?"

Harry looked at Charlie and, with barely contained lust and urgency, said, "Fuck me."

Charlie immediately pulled him close and plundered his mouth, as his hands moved to Harry's arse, massaging it, pulling his cheeks apart. Harry groaned as Charlie deliberately brushed his middle-finger across Harry's hole several times. Then Charlie let go of him to fetch lube from the drawer of his nightstand, and Harry moved fully onto the bed. He pulled Charlie on top of him and spread his legs. It only took Charlie a couple of short seconds to coat his finger with lube and thrust it into Harry's hole. Harry arched immediately and his cock twitched.

Charlie took no time preparing him, nor did Harry want him to. He needed this, needed the pressure of Charlie's fat cock inside of him. There was a burn when Charlie pushed inside and Harry welcomed it, along with the fingers brushing his nipples and the teeth nipping at his lips. Charlie pushed one of Harry's legs up to his chest, then thrust until he was sheathed completely.

"Okay?"

"More than."

Charlie pulled out deliciously slowly before he pushed back in, hard. Harry keened as Charlie hit his prostate, fireworks going off behind his eyelids. They moved fast and erratically, before switching positions in one smooth motion. Harry fucked himself on Charlie's dick now, sweat running down his neck and back. He felt himself come closer to the edge and leant forward, found Charlie's lips again.

The kiss turned into gasps, fingers groping, grappling, Charlie's hand stroking Harry's dick. Then Charlie's hips thrust upwards and a shout left his lips. One, two more hits and Harry saw stars, too, as he sprayed all over Charlie's chest, before he sank down on it, trying to catch his breath.

A short while later, Charlie pulled out of Harry and cast a sleepy cleaning spell over them. Then they both fell asleep, a mess of naked skin and legs tangled in sheets.

 

******

 

It would be the final test, Charlie had said. It would determine if he was ready to go back to work, just like his boss wanted him to, or if he should stay in the reservation for a little while longer. Part of Harry wanted to fail, but the other part longed for normality, for his life in England. Charlie had recruited several men from the reservation, all burly and somewhat mean looking. Harry hadn't met them before and he supposed that was a good thing. For now they were just prowling around the room, eyes on him, making his skin crawl.

A hex came first, followed by an insult. Those were quick to fly and quick to follow. But Harry had heard a lot as an Auror and they didn't bother him too much. His looks, his skills, his dick, those were the ones he could take. He bristled at the mention of his family, but kept his temper in check as he ducked spells that could have hurt him. Then one of them turned their wand on Charlie, snarling, spitting, and Harry saw a curse forming on his lips. Later he wasn't able to say what had happened, but heat rose in his body and burst out his fingers. A wave of fire and heat slammed into Charlie's attacker. It was over before it really began.

Harry saw the rest of the men retreat and he blinked. It was only then that he noticed that he was surrounded by an aura of flame. He quickly extinguished it and walked over to Charlie.

"I'm sorry, I lost control and I –"

"Are you kidding me? That was brilliant!"

"But," Harry ran a hand through his hair, "flames just exploded –"

Charlie pulled Harry into a hug. "You defended me. You didn't just react; you saw the guy, saw an opening, and acted."

"Unconsciously, though. There was not much of me controlling it." Harry rested his head on Charlie's shoulder.

"That will come, too. You just need some practice."

"Is this your way of saying I should go home?"

"I'm not saying you should ...." Charlie sighed and pressed a kiss to the side of Harry's head. "Come on, let's go to the cabin."

"And the other guy?"

"Dirk will be alright. He's a tough nut to crack and knows how to handle dragon fire."

 

******

 

Harry felt the need to stick close to Charlie on their way back to the cabin. His thoughts were still muddled, filled with fire and sparks, and it was only in the cabin that he was finally able to focus.

Charlie looked at him with worry, and Harry managed a smile. "I'm okay," he said and started moving towards Charlie as if he was mirroring his actions from the day they had first kissed, albeit slower and more deliberately. It was Charlie who reached for him first and drew him into a kiss that was both needy and hungry. Harry felt Charlie's hard length pressing against his leg and his own hips snapped forward as if to answer the question that hadn't even been asked.

Harry pulled off Charlie's shirt as they stumbled backwards to Charlie's bed.

 

******

 

Harry tapped his hand on Ron's letter again and sighed. He didn't want to leave here, yet he knew he had to. Yesterday's test had shown he was ready, even though he would still need to practice. He looked back at Charlie, who was still asleep, legs tangled in the covers. How could he –

"You're worrying too much," Charlie said sleepy. "I don't even see the problem."

Harry frowned. "I have to leave."

"Yeah, but not forever. There's Portkeys, international Apparition, you can come visit, I can come visit ...."

"Really?"

"Of course. Now come back to bed. I plan on sleeping in and getting fucked by you before you leave."

 

******

The End


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